


Just Like The First Time

by Meridel



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Just all the fluff, Married Witches in Love, very very old married witches in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-06 02:42:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15876819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meridel/pseuds/Meridel
Summary: At over two hundred year's old, Hecate and Ada don't dance together anymore. At least, not until Hecate procures a very special magical record.





	Just Like The First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a beautiful piece of the same name by stutterhug on Tumblr (http://stutterhug.tumblr.com/post/156408530557/just-like-the-first-time)

The lilac bush needs trimming again. From her chair looking out the second story window of their cottage, Ada can tell it is getting unruly. She hears Hecate slowly climbing the stairs and considers reminding her, but thinks better of it. It will only make Hecate grumble or worse yet, decide it must be taken care of immediately, and Ada would rather have her wife to herself this evening. 

Besides…she wonders if Hecate remembers what day it is.

Not that there is any reason she shouldn’t, just that at two hundred and twenty-eight years old there have been so many days that they tend to blur together. No longer do ticking clocks, time tables, and school bells rule their world, nor are there any more semesters or holidays to parse out their weeks. In fact, these days Ada can hardly remember what it was like to rise before nine o’clock. In their retirement, time flows like a stream, meandering where it pleases.  

The bedroom door creaks open and Hecate shuffles into the room, a dark wooden cane with a crystal handle clutched in one hand. A tea tray bobs along beside her in mid-air and she blinks at Ada over the half-moon spectacles perched on her nose. “You’re awake.”

Hecate’s hair may have gone white as snow, but it still sits twisted up atop her head, and with that discerning frown of hers, she looks ever the strict school mistress. Ada sees past it easily, always has, and in these moments it amuses her to know that some things will never change. Ada sits up, her back spasming in protest, reminding her that other things certainly _do_. She grips the armrest hard and her forgotten novel slides off her lap, landing on the floor with a dull thud. “I never meant to doze off,” she mutters, looking annoyed at the book lying on the carpet, just out of reach. Sighing, she summons it back onto the shelf.

“How’re you feeling?” asks Hecate softly, as she directs the tray onto the coffee table and takes the seat opposite.

Ada sighs again. “Oh, the same, I suppose.” The lines on her face, etched deep by the passing years, grow deeper as she frowns. She tries to arrange herself into a more comfortable position in her chair.

“Miss Blackwood had sent more of the tincture I requested,” says Hecate, holding up a small green bottle. “I was hoping it might help.”

“Well, that was kind of her,” replies Ada, looking with interest at the sweet Hecate has chosen. Lemon raspberry scones, most excellent in Ada’s opinion.  

“Potions first,” says Hecate, following Ada’s gaze. 

Ada clicks her tongue. “Hecate, have I ever told you that you’re absolutely no fun at all?” she grumbles good-naturedly.

“I was under the impression it was the sole reason you married me,” remarks Hecate, her mouth twisting as she fights off a smile. Ada chuckles.

“Hmm, yes, well. That and your affection for leather dressing gowns,” says Ada, gesturing at Hecate’s attire.

Hecate rolls her eyes, but snorts with a laugh despite herself. With trembling fingers, opens the several potion bottles and measures various doses into Ada’s teacup. “I know for a fact,” says Hecate pointedly as she pours tea over the lot of it, “that you have always liked this dressing gown.” She adds a generous spoonful of sugar and stirs before handing the cup to Ada. 

“I do,” Ada relents, taking a sip. The sugar and the tea only barely hide the taste, but the magic filters through her, easing the aches somewhat. She smiles softly. “Thank you, Hecate.”

Hecate merely hums her acknowledgement, fixing her own cup. It’s quiet between them for a time, the clink of china and the birds chirping outside filling the silence. It’s not until Hecate has finished her tea, and Ada is on her second scone, that Hecate speaks.

“I have a gift for you.” 

Ada tilts her head and regards her wife with curiosity. “Oh?”

Hecate snaps her fingers and a thin square wrapped in brown paper appears in her hand.

Ada smiles approvingly and sets down her pastry. “A new song?” she asks, her eyes flitting to the record player and back to the telltale shape of the package.

Hecate slips a nail under the edge of the wrapping and slides the paper off. “See for yourself,” she says, handing the record to Ada.

Ada scans the words artfully scrawled across the back, her eyes widening. “Does it work?” she asks, her voice brimming with hope. She looks up to see Hecate standing over her, smiling, one delicate hand outstretched. 

“Shall we find out?”

Ada presses her lips together, nodding almost shyly. Now that it’s been offered, she fears it will be too painful should her body not cooperate, but she can’t help wanting.

Hecate takes the record and with a twirl of her fingers it’s flown to the record player that sits atop the sideboard. There’s a moment of static and then a lilting melody starts to play.

Hecate takes her hands and Ada’s anxiety peaks. She couldn’t possibly be steady enough on her feet. “Hecate, I don’t think…“

“It will be all right,” promises Hecate, giving her hands a squeeze. “I…I may have reinforced the stability charm on your slippers this morning.” 

Hecate’s bright eyes give Ada courage and as she wiggles her feet properly into her slippers she can feel the addition of Hecate’s magic in them. 

“So you did,” says Ada, touched that Hecate has taken such care with this. She stands, giving her legs, her spine, a moment to adjust to bearing weight. She feels the magic from the tips of her toes traveling up her body, holding it steady. A witch may grow in power every year, that much is true, but her body grows frailer too, more reliant on that magic to keep from falling apart. It’s a strange marriage of the two that keeps Ada standing, but only just.

“Ready?” 

Hecate takes a few steps backwards into the center of their bedroom and Ada follows her, eyes fixed on her wife’s tender smile. Without her cane, Hecate moves slower, and Ada knows each step is painful, sees it despite Hecate’s best efforts to hide. They slip easily into each other’s arms and for a moment they just stand there, holding fast. There is more than a touch of excitement as the music swells, and Ada feels butterflies in stomach.

The spell printed on the record is an easy one, and it appears in the first repeat of the chorus, so they don’t even bother with speaking it out loud when the time comes. Music and magic is always a potent combination, and this is a very special instance. The colours of the room swirl together and Ada feels herself sway, but the fear of falling over doesn’t come with it. Instead her body feels light, almost as if she is floating. One hand squeezes Hecate’s, her other clutching tightly to Hecate’s shoulder.

Then Ada feels the floor beneath her feet, solid and smooth, and herself moving in time. Blinking, Ada looks up into Hecate’s dark eyes and she gasps. 

Hecate’s hair is dark again, loose curls falling over her shoulders and down her back. The lines in her face have faded, and somehow she is several inches taller than she’d been a moment before. Ada looks down and sees that the black heels Hecate hasn’t worn in several decades.

“Just like the first time,” Hecate murmurs, smiling at her. Ada’s face has split into a wide grin, and it’s only then she realizes she must look different too. She feels different, her step light and easy, her back straight without thinking, her lungs full. Hecate sweeps her around the room and it’s effortless.

“You didn’t think I’d forgotten, did you?” Hecate whispers, her cheek brushing against Ada’s. There are tears unexpectedly in Ada’s eyes and a lump in her throat. Of course Hecate hadn’t forgotten. “I’d been in love with you for so long,” Hecate continues. “And never had the courage to say.”

“I’m so glad you finally did,” manages Ada finally. The music swells again and Ada tilts her head to capture Hecate’s lips in a soft kiss. She feels so impossibly loved and she wants Hecate to know, wants her to feel the same.

“I’m so glad you asked me to dance.”

It seems like a lifetime ago, that nervous precious moment. Before the truth had come spilling out, before Ada had returned Hecate’s love with such enthusiasm and joy. Before their hand fasting ceremony, before announcing it to the school, or to the world. Back when it was their own treasured secret.

The song lasts a little more than a minute and they sink into it, into each other. They close their eyes as the music trails off, the spell lifting as the last note disappears. Ada holds Hecate a little tighter and when she opens her eyes everything is back to normal.

“Thank you,” Ada whispers, her eyes shining. “That was lovely.”

Hecate cups Ada’s face with both hands, smoothing her thumb over Ada’s cheek. She leans in and they kiss, gentle and sure, Hecate’s hands threading into Ada’s soft white hair. They break apart only long enough for the transfer, both tumbling into the same chair with a laugh. Grinning, Ada enlarges it so they both might be comfortable and pulls Hecate in to kiss her again. And again. And again.


End file.
